The Flight of Morpho Girl

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The Flight of Morpho Girl Page 2

by Caroline Spector


  “I’m sure she’s all right,” I said, trying to keep my voice from quavering. And I wanted to believe it. After all, Ghost can go all non-corporeal and escape pretty much anything. Also, she had been trained in the PPA as an assassin, and that made her scary as hell sometimes. What could happen to someone like her?

  But Wally was beyond worried. And I didn’t need him having a freak-out storm, too. Like, there’s only room for one of those at a time. Besides, a guy like Wally shouldn’t be scared. I mean, he’s—you know, Rustbelt, for crying out loud.

  “Neighbor Bob says he’ll stick around and call me if she shows up,” Wally said. “But, gosh, if she isn’t there already—”

  “I bet she’s just taking the long way home,” I said. I patted Wally’s back. It made a dull thunk and kinda hurt my hand. I never would have done that before my transformation, but it seemed like a semi-grownup thing to do. I felt stupid doing it, though.

  Wally gave a shuddering sigh. “I could go home and wait, but I feel like I should be looking for her. Or calling the police. But Mrs. Teasdale says the police won’t do anything about an angry child who’s only been missing an hour.” He grabbed the wrought-iron fence that surrounded the school, and it started turning to rust. He can do that, make iron rust. He jerked his hand back, but a three-foot section had already poofed away.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I said. I patted his back again, and it felt a little less stupid this time. “Look, Yerodin and I have a place we like to go when we ditch class. We can check there.”

  Wally’s mouth hinges pulled down. “You ditch class?” He sounded astonished.

  All of a sudden my tongue felt thick. “Um, just a little, sometimes, during last period.” Except that sometimes we snuck out during fourth period, too, because Mrs. Teasdale never did roll call after lunch. Mrs. Teasdale was a joker, sporting wiggly face and neck tentacles, and I think she was supposed to be a role model for us joker kids. But she mostly napped in the afternoon while we were supposed to be doing the day’s reading on our tablets.

  And that so didn’t happen. Most of the time, Yerodin and I played the Ocelot 9 battle version in friend mode. She beat me almost every game.

  But some days, we’d sneak out of class while Mrs. Teasdale snoozed. We’d head down the street to Jinka’s Juice and grab smoothies, then walk a few blocks over to our favorite game shop.

  “It’s called the Tumbling Dice,” I said. “Ghost and I get all our Ocelot 9 stuff there. Come on, I’ll take you.”

  Wally’s forehead crimped. The creases in his forehead had a dull sheen. If he doesn’t Brillo himself now and then, he gets all cruddy and rusty. Yesterday afternoon, though, he was spotless. At least, he was at first.

  “Aren’t you supposed to go straight home after school?” he asked. “Your mother will wonder where you are.”

  “I’ll text Mom,” I said. “She’s working late today anyhow.” Wally didn’t seem to know that Mom was in Panama. But I didn’t see any reason to mention it. And I also didn’t see any reason to mention what I would text to her.

  Wally was still frowning. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe you can just tell me how to get to this Dice place.”

  “No!” I hadn’t meant to shout, but that’s how it came out. “Until four weeks ago, Yerodin and I were the same age, and we did everything together. And now—” I gestured at my teenage body. “I have to go to high school, and everyone acts weird around me. Even Ghost. But she is always going to be my best friend.” I stared up at Wally’s face and tried to beat his iron scowl with one of my own. “So I’m not going home ’til I know she’s okay. Period.”

  Wally’s frown smoothed a little. “I see. Uff-da.” Then he looked up and down the street again, as if Ghost might magically appear … which, given her ace power, she very well could. “Let’s go, then.”

  “Follow me.” I turned to head down the sidewalk.

  Then my wings began to unfurl. I tried to get them to collapse again, but it wasn’t easy. I wished they would just snuggle against my back the way they did when I was little. Now it was like they had a will of their own. For example, six days after my transformation, I got all excited playing Ocelot 9 solo, and I jumped up from the couch. At which point my head bumped the ceiling, because my wings had spread open and flapped without my even thinking about it.

  So I started sneaking up to the roof to practice flying. Which got easier once I discovered I could flap up there from my bedroom window. And luckily, Mom hasn’t noticed the dent in the living-room ceiling.

  So, yeah. Flying. That’s something. But as Wally and I headed out from the Carter School, all I knew was that we had a mission and that my big, pretty wings were trying to get in the way.

  “Right behind you,” Wally said, and then his jaw clanged as the upper edge of my left wing whapped him.

  I looked back and started to apologize, but he hadn’t even noticed. Tiny specks of rust were starting to appear on his forehead and at the corners of his mouth.

  I picked up the pace and headed for the Tumbling Dice.

  * * *

  Ever since Mom and Wally saved me and Ghost from the PPA, we’ve been doing our best to become normal kids.

  Well, okay. Like with me and Mom, “normal” isn’t an option.

  But being kids should be. As in, not a discarded freak, and not a non-corporeal assassin. Just, you know … kids. Living the way kids are supposed to live.

  For me and Ghost, in our new life in Jokertown, New York City, USA, playing games has been a huge part of that. Because that’s what American kids do, right?

  Besides, it’s hella fun. And the most hella fun game of all is Ocelot 9. Which is what we were playing the day before I changed into a teenager.

  “I call Baby Ocelot,” Yerodin said. She had a wicked grin on her face. We were sitting on the couch at my house.

  “Oh, that’s so not fair!” I said with fake annoyance. She always dibbed Baby Ocelot. Usually, I just let her have it because she really liked winning.

  “Watch out for my adorableness!” she cackled. You wouldn’t have thought that sound could come out of the mouth of such a little girl.

  “That attack is totes o.p.!” I said with indignation. “Even Tulip Ralph says so!” The Adorable Attack could stun or enchant an enemy, and no matter which ocelot I was playing, Baby and its AA were hard to beat.

  “Hey, I’ve won against you when you’ve played the Baby,” Ghost said. “And Ralph just likes teasing us. But I’m immune to it. Too bad you aren’t immune to the Adorable Attack!”

  I loved trash talking with her. “Then bring it on, doomed Baby!”

  I chose Ninja Ocelot, went stealth, and started sneaking around behind her. Then, just when I came out of stealth to wallop her, she spun and hit me with the AA. It took but a few Perfume Bolts for her to finish me off.

  “Boom!” She raised her hand and opened it, pretending to drop a bomb.

  I reached over and tickled her. “Next time I get Baby!” She giggled, then started tickling me, too.

  Our tablets fell to the floor, and we kept at it until Ghost cried “Uncle.” Revenge was mine.

  * * *

  If Wally hadn’t been so worried, it might have been a nice walk. In late September, almost overnight, New York goes from smelling like melting tar and rotting garbage to crisp leaves and spiced cider. If Yerodin had been with me, we’d have been talking about what costumes we’d be wearing for Halloween.

  But of course Wally didn’t notice the nice day. We went down four blocks past Jinka’s Juice, where Ghost and I buy our smoothies, and then I turned and headed three blocks west. And the farther we went, the worse the neighborhood got, which I hadn’t realized before. But now I did, because I could tell it was making Wally tense. And the more tense he got, the more his legs clanked.

  “I can’t believe you and Yerodin have been skipping school,” he said.

  My wings twitched. “It’s never hurt our grades,” I said. “So we’ve always
figured it’s no big deal.”

  Wally’s jaw made a grinding sound. “If it was no big deal,” he said, “you wouldn’t have kept it a secret from me and your mom.”

  “Wally—” I said.

  But Wally wasn’t finished. “And if you hadn’t started doing it at all, don’tchaknow, maybe Yerodin would have come home today instead of thinking it was okay to run around down here all by herself.” His shoulders slumped. “Gosh, she’s still just a little kid.”

  And that’s when I started to cry.

  Mom’s Diary

  I tried not to cry, but when the judge said I was emancipated, it was horrible.

  I don’t want to be emancipated. Not at fourteen. For one thing, it sounds like I was a slave or something. And I was never that. But I wish … I wish mommy and daddy hadn’t done what they did.

  I worked whenever they said to. And it wasn’t fun most of the time. It was okay when I was a kid. But now they want me to be so skinny. I’m almost six feet tall and they’ve been trying to keep me at 115 pounds. I’m hungry all the time. I know a lot of the girls will eat Kleenex because it fills them up. But I tried it once and barfed.

  They spent everything I made. I must be something horrible. Because why else would they treat me like that?

  I guess I’m free now. But I feel more trapped than ever.

  I turned my face away and managed to get control of myself. And Wally didn’t speak the rest of the way to the Tumbling Dice. I was glad of that, because if he did, I might start crying again. And I was too big for that now.

  Ghost and I love the Tumbling Dice. They have a ginormous inventory of RPGs and board games. The shelves are loaded up to the ceiling. They have all the current D&D modules, of course, as well as all sorts of mainstream games and some really obscure stuff. (Seriously, who’s going to play an RPG where you’re an amoeba?) They even have a copy of The Game of Wild Cards where you go along hoping you don’t land on the Black Queen or Jokertown squares.

  The owner is Tulip Ralph. Instead of hair, he has beautiful tulips growing out of his head, except in the winter when they go dormant. Then he has a head full of bulbs that look like gross warty growths.

  But when Wally and I walked in, with the bell on the door making its ting sound, Ralph still had some pretty flowers left. They’re always the fancy kind, all ruffly with stripes. And they change color pretty much every day. Yesterday, they matched the orange, blue, and white of his checkered shirt. Which was untucked, as usual.

  He’s never seemed to mind if Ghost and I hang out and watch his regulars play their games. Just so we’re quiet. There’s a back room set up for playing miniatures, and two tables for role-playing campaigns in the front room. At least one of those tables is always full, as it was when Wally and I came in.

  “Hey, Ralph,” I said, stepping past the gamers to the scuffed black counter. I hadn’t been in since I’d changed, but everything still looked the same. The countertop was jammed with displays of collectable trading cards, with the super-rares in individual sleeves with hefty price tags. But Ocelot 9 was more fun, and cheap. “Have you seen Ghost?”

  Ralph looked up from his book—a biography of Abraham Lincoln—and stared over his reading glasses. His tulips bobbed, and his eyes widened. “Who’s this in my store?” he asked in his usual gravelly voice. But he wasn’t asking me. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you must be Rustbelt. But what would Rustbelt be doing in my little dump?” He held out his hand. “I’m Tulip Ralph, by the way.”

  “Aw, gosh, Mr. Tulip,” Wally said, giving Ralph’s hand a quick shake. “I’m looking for my daughter, Yerodin. This is her friend, Adesina. She might’ve looked different the last time you saw her.”

  Ralph nodded. “Yeah, she was a little more compact.” He nodded toward my phone, which was jutting up from the pocket of my jean jacket. “But I recognize those Ocelot 9 stickers on her phone. That game is like crack for her and her friend.” He raised an eyebrow. “In fact, Yerodin was in here yesterday, hitting me up for a free Baby Ocelot notebook. First time she’s been here in weeks. I was surprised you weren’t with her, ‘Morpho Girl.’”

  I felt a lump growing in my throat. “I wish I had been,” I said. “I wish we were here together right now.”

  Ralph frowned. “Well, she was out on the sidewalk about an hour ago, slurpin’ one of those smoothies you girls always have. Thought she was waiting for you. But after a few minutes, she sort of stretched and yawned, and then left. I assumed she got tired of waiting, and decided to take advantage of my good nature another day.”

  I glanced around. “That doesn’t sound like her. But she can go through walls, so maybe she popped in without you noticing.”

  Ralph put down his book and took off his reading glasses. “I know what she can do. I’ve seen her zip into the back room when neither of you thought I did. You kids seem to think that just because I read books, I don’t pay attention.” He shook his head. “Punks.”

  Wally’s yellow eyes widened. “Hey, fella, that’s my little girl and her friend you’re talking about!”

  Tulip Ralph held up his hands. “Whoa, Rusty. ‘Punks’ is a term of affection. Like ‘knuckleheads’ for those guys over there.” He waved his hand toward the table of four role-players—a giraffe-necked joker guy, a bug-eyed joker guy with no nose at all, a nerdy-looking little nat guy, and a lizard-skinned young woman. They all shot Ralph the finger and continued their game without looking up.

  “Hey, there’s a child here!” Wally said.

  “Dude,” said the giraffe-necked joker, “this is the rough-and-tumble world of RPGing in Jokertown. Any kid who spends time in here has seen it all.”

  Wally turned to me, aghast.

  “He’s kidding, Wally,” I said, trying to give him my sweet-little-girl face. “Yerodin and I just watch the gamers play, and there’s no rough-and-tumble anything. And Tulip Ralph gets us cool Ocelot 9 stuff.”

  “On account of I’m a sweetheart,” Ralph said.

  Wally looked down at the checkerboard tiles on the floor. “Little kids. Running around town during school hours.” He shook his huge head. “Once I find my Yerodin, you betcha I’m never letting her out of my sight again.” He looked up. “So where else do you girls go?” He pointed a big, orange-flecked finger at me. “And if she isn’t there, I’m callin’ the police. And if they won’t do anything, I’ll call the Amazing Bubbles. Maybe a few other friends, too.” He closed one hand into a huge fist and smacked it into his palm. It sounded like a sledgehammer hitting an anvil. “We can turn Jokertown upside down if we have to, by golly.”

  I stared at Wally. I’d never seen him like this. And I had no idea where to look for Yerodin next. Jinka’s Juice and the Tumbling Dice weren’t just our two main hangouts. They were our only hangouts.

  Tulip Ralph picked up his book again. “Well, Mr. Rustbelt, before you give the neighborhood an atomic wedgie, maybe Adesina can log onto Ocelot 9 and check for Yerodin there.” He put his readers back on and looked at me over the tops. “You kids are almost never off that game, even when you’re watching the knuckleheads. You’re both on the Ocelot 9 teat.”

  “Judas Priest!” Wally bellowed. “Watch your language!”

  I snapped out of my stupor. “It’s okay, Wally,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. He was a lot less scary when he was yelling at someone who wasn’t me.

  Then I pulled out my phone and opened my Ocelot 9 app. It automatically logged me, and sure enough, Ghost was on. I could have smacked myself in the head with both wings.

  My hands trembled. I hoped Yerodin had calmed down and was ready to come home, because I knew she could avoid me and Wally for days if she wanted to. As well as Mom and every other ace in town. Despite what Wally thought, big physical powers wouldn’t be much use in finding a little Ghost.

  I pulled up a chat window and nervously messaged her.

  Morpho_Girl: Hey, found any new levels?

  Ghost427:

  Morp
ho_Girl: There’s a hidden treasure in the jungle temple. Want me to show you?

  “What’s going on?” Wally leaned over my shoulder to watch, and I hunched to hide the screen. I mean, I knew he was upset, but privacy, doodle. A kid’s phone is her castle.

  Morpho_Girl: Pls answer if ur there. Your dad’s super worried about u.

  Ghost427:

  Morpho_Girl: He’s starting to rust from anxiety.

  Ghost427: He’s a big rusty dork.

  I just about fell over. Ghost was answering me! Although calling Wally a “big rusty dork” didn’t sound like her.

  I began thumbing my screen as fast as I could.

  Morpho_Girl: Not! And we’ve been looking 4 u everywhere.

  Ghost427: ?everywhere?

  Morpho_Girl: U know, like the Tumb Dice. Where R U?

  Ghost427: U R a dork 2!

  And then she was gone.

  I looked up at Wally. His metal skin was crinkling and speckling. “She won’t tell me anything,” I said. “And she sounds weird. I think she’s really mad at me.”

  Wally shook his big, blocky head. “Oh, gosh, it’s not you.” His voice rasped like bad brakes. “The reason we had our dustup was because she wanted me to take her out of Carter and put her in high school. So you two could be in the same class again. But I said there was no way the schools would go for it, and that made her awful mad. She was flickering in and out of being solid. And yelling.”

  Now Wally was crying.

  The lump in my throat felt permanent. All of us who’d come back from the PPA were close to each other … but Ghost was my bff.

  So now I knew why she was angry. It was because I had changed. And that meant we couldn’t be together anymore. Which was not something I would ever do on purpose.

  But maybe … maybe she thought I had.

  Mom’s Diary

  The apartment is mine now, I guess. It’s pretty much empty except for some stuff in my room. They sold everything they could before they left.

 

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